Pteranodon First Aid
by Chicago Is So 2 Years Ago
Summary: Post-Cyberwoman, Ianto cares for Torchwood's injured watch dog as Jack decides his fate.


**Pteranodon First Aid**

"There's a girl," Ianto murmured softly to the crooning pterodactyl as he used a pair of pliers to muscle the heavy needle through the webbing of a wing.

The team had initially feared that Lisa had defeated the ornery creature, but with no body to be found Ianto had continued to hold out hope that Myfanwy was okay. It was this hope that had driven him to brave his discomfort with heights and make the climb to the nest/cave in the upper reaches of the Hub. When he had arrived to find an injured Myfanwy he'd done the only thing he truly knew how to do – take care of things.

'_Crawhhawwpp_'

"I know. Almost finished. Have you back in the sky and terrorizing Owen before you know it." Pulling the final stitches tight, Ianto caressed the rough hide of her injured wing. He didn't bother to fight the tears that had begun to fall at some point during his doctoring of the prehistoric creature.

Sensing his distress, Myfanwy swooped her massive head around to gently nuzzle Ianto's side.

_Chirrrp ah chirrpa_

Curling his fingers around her shoulder Ianto allowed himself to take the final step and began an all out sob, the likes of which he'd not had since childhood – if then.

"That is the sound of one broken man," Captain Jack Harkness said aloud, despite the absence of an audience. Pouring himself another glass of hard liquor, he downed it quickly not bothering to savor the taste at all. Once empty, he set the glass down on his desk beside the two objects that currently were causing a war in his mind.

His Webley. And Retcon.

He picked up the Webley and turned it over in his hand a few times. According to Torchwood procedure, he should kill the kid. Treason, threatening a commanding officer, misappropriation of government supplies, theft of alien technology, allowing something that would cause the extinction of the human race to hide in the basement of the Hub, lies… If he allowed it, the list could easily expand to hundreds of crimes, any of which were punishable by death at his hand. With a sigh, he set the Webley back down. Even if he could manage to go that route, and he was under no illusion that it wouldn't be extremely difficult, there was no way he could use his beloved weapon to perpetrate such an action.

His hand hovered over the bottle of RetCon. It could be a new start for Ianto. He could forget all about Torchwood – One and Three – and lose the memories of the pain of losing Lisa, all with the simple swallowing of a pill. And Ianto would swallow it willingly. There would be no crushing it and slipping it in a pint like with Gwen and countless others. No, Ianto would do it if Jack asked it of him. But could he ask that? Could he betray that twisted loyalty? More to the point, could he ask Ianto forget all about him and Tosh and Owen and Gwen?

"I'd prefer the Webley, sir, if I have any say in the matter."

Startled, Jack looked up and saw Ianto – in ragged jeans and a plain cotton t-shirt, no less – standing before him. "Christ Ianto, don't sneak up on me like that."

"Sorry sir," Ianto replied dully.

Taking another look at Ianto, Jack quickly realized that the younger man was not as unaffected by the situation as his tone of voice suggested. Ianto had wrapped his left arm across his stomach, holding his right elbow while he nervously bit at his right thumb – a habit Jack had always found to be ridiculously endearing when performed by the Welshman.

"If you don't mind sir, I'd appreciate the chance to get a shower and a fresh suit first. Don't rightly fancy dying while covered in prehistoric blood." Ianto shifted his weight from one leg to the other, almost imperceptibly. "Not to mention that it would raise a lot of questions should I take RetCon."

"Prehistoric blood?" Jack questioned, choosing not to focus on the fact that Ianto had asked for death only a few short minutes before.

"Myfanwy is up in the Nest, I've taken care of what injuries I can. Difficult to say what more she might need – I don't have much expertise in Pteranodon physiology. I will be sure to write out some instructions on what will need to be done to speed the healing process along."

"That won't be necessary Ianto."

"Sir, please…"

"We won't be needing instructions because you aren't going anywhere any time soon."

"Sir?"

"Consider yourself suspended. One month, with a lengthy probation period to follow. Take the SUV, go to your flat, pack it up and bring anything you will be needing by way of creature comforts and clothing. You will be taking up residence in the spare flat."

"Yes sir."

"Oh, and Ianto,"

"Yes sir?"

"We will be talking about all of this. Soon. Consider it a condition of your suspension." Jack was pleased with his spur of the moment decision to move Ianto into the Hub. "You have twenty hours… Roomie!"

Ianto appeared to give a small shudder at the 'Roomies' comment.

"Will do, sir."


End file.
